


Candlelights

by fireflyangelxx



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fluff, just some cute feysand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 08:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13520532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireflyangelxx/pseuds/fireflyangelxx
Summary: It’s Feyre’s birthday and everyone but Rhys has come with presents.





	Candlelights

“Happy birthday, Feyre!” A chorus of shouts bombarded her as the High Lady of the Night Court stepped into the townhouse. She didn’t even take a full step in when Cassian crushed her into a hug. Soon, Mor was crowding in as well, a grin plastered all ovre her face.

“Thanks,” Feyre smiled, laughing a bit, as her friends made her birthday such a big deal. They liked to tease her for being so young and being able to count how many years old she was. Feyre suspected Cassian was still trying to wheedle her sister’s birthday out of her so he could throw a party for her. Nesta had made Feyre swear she would never tell Cassian.

Azriel and Amren were hovering behind Mor and cassian, wrapped gifts in their hands. The latter gave Feyre a razor sharp smile that Feyre could only interpret as affection. The former’s shadows drew a bit farther from his face while he gave his High Lady a small nod in greeting.

Feyre stepped away and realized her sisters and Lucien were here as well. Her friends had set up a part--a surprise as Feyre had been off dealing with business in Rhys’s stead and had returned for peace and quiet. If she was being honest, she had forgotten that it was her birthday.

It took Feyre awhile to realize that something was missing from the townhouse. _Someone_ to be accurate.

She spun around and directed her question to Azriel. “Where is Rhys?”

The shadowsinger shrugged, a small lift of his shoulders. “I don’t know, Feyre, though he has been off dealing with business for days.”

That was true; Rhys hadn’t been home for a whole week now. For a fleeting moment, Feyre felt panic flutter in her stomach; it had been five years since the war had ended but Feyre was still afraid to lose her mate. There were no guarantees to how many Fae still hated him.

And it wasn’t like her mate to forget her birthday. One year he had also been away--he had to talk to Kallias about some sort of treaty--and he had told her happy birthday through their bond since he hadn’t been able to make it back right away.

Feyre furrowed her brow, concerned. “I’m sure he’ll arrive soon,” Mor said breezily, “Rhys would never forget your birthday.”

“She’s right,” Cassian slung an arm around her. “Come on, let’s go eat your cake--I’m starving!”

Feyre had to laugh at Cassian’s impatience but she was still worried. Had Rhys gotten into trouble? “Rhysand is not stupid, not when he knows that his mate is waiting for him back home.” Amren brushed past Feyre, using the words as reassurement. “He’ll be back by nightfall.”

“All right,” Feyre relented, “Let’s have that cake.”

“Yes!” Cassian pumped a fist in the air, grinning. Mor only rolled her eyes, exasperated but she just bickered with Cassian, telling the Illyrian she could eat more cake than he could.

“You’re on!” Cassian darted for the kitchen, Mor trailing after him, her blue gown sweeping as she went.

Azriel chuckled. “I’m afraid there won’t be any cake for you by the time you get there, Feyre.”

“Don’t worry though,” Elain smiled softly. “We got an extra cake for you because Nesta speculated that Cassian would finish off the first one.”

Nesta snorted. “Cassian should be banned from eating at any of our parties. There’s never enough food left when he and Mor are done eating.”

In the years that they had settled here, Feyre’s sisters were comfortable now. They embraced their sister before exiting to the kitchen, Azriel going after them.

“And then there were two,” Feyre mused as she turned to smile at Lucien, who had been patiently waiting on the side.

Lucien just pulled Feyre into a quick hug, his gold eye glinting in the light. “Happy birthday,” he greeted his friend. “Sorry if you wanted to have this place for yourself. I couldn’t convince them to bring you to the House of Wind for the party.”

Feyre laughed. “It’s fine, really. I just forgot it was my birthday so seeing all of you here was a happy surprise.” Suddenly she remembered something. “Why doesn’t anyone want the part at the House of Wind? It’s a lot bigger than this townhouse.”

“Cassian trashed the dining room when he was drunk,” Lucien explained. “Mor is making him clean it all up so we can’t go up there until he’s done.”

“Sounds inconvenient,” Feyre frowned, a little unsure about Lucien’s explanation. “Since they live there and all.”

Lucien shrugged and let Feyre loop one arm through his as they headed into the dining room to eat.

Her friends had decorated every inch of the townhouse for this party. As they crowded her to the table to have her sit at the edge, Feyre thought about Rhys again. Surely if her friends were going to throw her a surprise party, they would tell Rhys, wouldn’t they? Her mate loved parties.

“Where _is_ Rhys?” She decided to ask again. “Did you guys tell him about this party?”

“Of course we did,” Amren scoffed, “Rhysand would murder us if we didn’t tell him.”

Feyre felt as if she was missing something, like the last piece of a puzzle. “And if you told him...why isn’t he here? It isn’t like Rhys to not show up.” Especially if the even involved his mate.

“He had business,” Azriel reminded her. “He couldn’t make any of the plannings and didn’t tell us where he was going.”

That didn’t sound right either. Why would Rhys without information from his spymaster? It was a general rule within the Inner Circle to inform at least one person where you were headed. (“Even if you want to go commit some heinous crime without anyone noticing.” Cassian had added.)

“I’m starving,” Cassian reminded everyone, rubbing his stomach woefully. “Do we have food?”

“You were supposed to bring it!” Mor accused, flinging her hands up in frustration. “This is why we don’t trust you with things like this.”

There was no food? Feyre’s own stomach gurmbled. Perhaps they could go eat out instead. “Oh whatever,” Nesta interrupted Cassian and Mor’s fight. “Let’s just start in on the cake.”

They brought in a beautifully designed cake from one of Mor’s close friends. It had the night sky frosted on the top, glittery and breathtaking. Feyre almost didn’t want to ruin the handiwork. It was large enough for all of them (Cassian and Mor had really taken the smaller cake and downed it all).

Feyre split the cake evenly, saving a slice for Rhys for when he came back. She shoved away her worry for her mate and tried to enjoy her cake instead. It melted in her mouth and Feyre relaxed in her chair.

She was almost done with her cake when she noticed that Cassian was trying to make eye contact with Mor, who was deep in conversation with Elain. When she finally looked up, Cassian raised and lowered his eyebrows a few times. Mor returned the gesture.

 _What was_ that _about_?

Nesta, who had also been watching, stood up. “Let’s play a game.”

Feyre’s eyes widened. Never in a thousand years did she think she would hear her sister utter those words. Even the words ‘I love you’ seemed more plausible than that.

Amren was the first to reply. “That sounds ideal.”

Feyre nearly choked on her wine. Amren wanted to play too? She put a hand to her forehead, wondering if today had been a dream. She felt fine.

Despite the strange circumstances, they all piled into the living room. It was then that Feyre tried reaching through the mating bond to the antechamber Rhys always left open for her.

But the door to it was closed off. No matter how much Feyre pounded or called out to him, Rhys didn’t reply.

“Earth to Feyre.” Cassian waved a hand in front of her face. “What game do you want to play?” He was sitting on the couch next to Nesta, his arm casually draped over her shoulder.

Feyre found that she didn’t really know any games but listed the first she could think of. Two hours sped by and though Feyre was having fun, her mind was elsewhere.

She excused herself from the game and quickly headed to the roof of the townhouse and stared at the night sky. It wasn’t until Elain came out behind her did Feyre realize she had been blocking the doorway.

“Did you come out for the fresh air?” Feyre smiled at her sister.

“Yeah, it was getting stuffy in there.” Elain joined Feyre at the edge of the rooftop. “Are you okay?” She asked, a bit of worry entering her voice.

“I’m fine,” Feyre tried to sound convincing. “I’m just worried about Rhys.”

Elain’s lips twitched and Feyre turned to her, her eyes catching the movement. “You know something, don’t you?” She accused. “There’s something fishy going on and no one is telling me!”

Her sister glanced quickly at the doorway before leaning in to whisper in Feyre’s ear. But before she could get a word out, Mor breezed in, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “Come now, Feyre, you can’t be hiding from your own party!”

“I’m hungry,” Feyre mumbled. “I’m going to go out for some food.”

Mor grabbed Feyre’s arm so swiftly it caught Feyre off guard. “No!” She cried out. “Please don’t leave. It shouldn’t be too long before--”

She cut herself off and Feyre blinked. “Before what?” She urged. Feyre knew she was closing in on the mystery. Her friends were hiding something and Feyre would find out before the night was over.

“Before…” Mor bit her lip. “Before the food comes! Cassian just ordered food.”

“I did?” Cassian strolled through the doorway. “Why don’t I know that? I’m starving and the cake is almost all gone.”

Mor scowled at Cassian. “You blew my cover.”

Cassian winced. “Sorry, Mor, you didn’t tell me I was ordering food! Actually, can I order food? I would like to eat eventually. Since...you know.”

Mor shot Cassian a scathing look just as Nesta appeared and gave Cassian a sharp jab in the side. Feyre narrowed her eyes. “What is going on?” She asked no one in particular. “So many things don’t add up.”

Before any of her friends could answer, a dark wind blew through the courtyard and Feyre whirled around to find Rhys there, hands tucked in his pockets, his hair windswept and messy. He smirked when he saw Feyre’s blush.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said shamelessly. “I was caught up with something.”

Feyre crossed her arms. “And what exactly is this ‘something’?”

Rhys’s violet eyes twinkled with mischief. “You’ll have to come with me to find out, Feyre, darling.”

She hesitated, glancing around at all her friends. Slowly, she pieced together all the little clues they had accidentally left behind. “You planned something at the House. Cassian didn’t actually trash the place.”

“Finally!” Cassian crowed. “Now can we please drop the facade and get dinner?”

Feyre now knew what else Rhys had planned up at the House of Wind. Her mate took her hand and grinned at his brother. “Thanks for covering for me.”

“Out of all of us, why did I have to be the one to take the blame?” Cassian grumbled.

“You’re the most likely person to trash the house.” Mor said affectionately.

The general huffed a bit but Rhys tugged on Feyre’s hand. “Come,” he beckoned, “It’s time you had a proper birthday dinner.”

Without another word, Rhysand whisked her to above the House where his wings snapped open and he landed smoothly on the balcony. Inside, there were hand-crafted stars hanging from the dim room, giving the place an ethereal look. Feyre’s breath caught at the love and beauty etched in each star.

“A candlelight dinner for two,” Rhys kissed the top of her head. “My present to you.”

And as they headed inside, Feyre found that perhaps today wasn’t such a bad birthday after all.


End file.
